Blue Velvet
by b4tmans
Summary: One year since he left her heartbroken and distraught on the bloodied and damp pavement beside St. Bart's Hospital. She didn't remember much. Only screaming and thrashing so violently to get to him. She never did. John held her back. Post Reichenbach. Sherlock/OC, you may need tissues.


**A/N: **ecto1Bruined my life and got me addicted to sherlock. I watched the reichenbach fall lastnight.

I don't think I have ever cried harder.

not. okay.

so I have a case of the reichenbach and this is the most depressing thing i have ever written. the song is blue velvet by lana del rey and I highly recommend you listen to it while reading. it makes a good back track. anyways, have fun crying over some sherlock/oc feels.

if demand is good, I may write some more.

* * *

_she wore blue velvet_

_bluer than velvet was the night_

_soft than satin was the light_

_from the stars_

The air was crisp. Refreshing. **Cold.**

She suddenly wished she had a scarf.

_**His **_**scarf.**

She swallowed.

**One year and a half.**

It had been one year and a half since **Sherlock Holmes** had died.

Committed **suicide**.

Jumped.

_One year since he left her __**heartbroken**__ and distraught on the __**bloodied**__ and damp pavement beside St. Bart's Hospital. She didn't remember much. Only __**screaming and thrashing**__ so __**violently**__ to get to him. She never did. John held her back. She was on the ground in a flash, her breath drew in ragged sobs. Her fingers met something wet._

_The slim digits were stained __**crimson**__._

_She screamed __**again**__. "God no, please, God no. John. No. He can't be. No. No John, please... Sherlock..."_

She swayed in the wind, not **scared** of the height anymore.

Standing on **the edge**, where he stood, stopped scaring her long ago. She no longer cared. If she was to **fall**, so be it. At least she would be **with him**.

London was lit up, the chilly **night **air of February nipping at her nose and fingers. She toyed with the piercing in her nose, thoughtfully fiddling with the **ring**.

The dress was **soft**. TIght fitting sleeves. Blue velvet. It **pooled** at her feet, the open back dipping down to her hips.

Her lipstick was **crimson**. The same color her fingers were stained after that day.

_she wore blue velvet_

_but in my heart there'll always be _

_precious and warm a memory through the years _

_and I still can see blue velvet through my tears_

She came **here** to talk to him.

"You're a fucking idiot, **Sherlock**," she hissed, "An idiot. You just had to leave. I... **I was fucked after that,** you know."

She paused, her dark eyes flitting to the starry sky.

"I was fucked. **I **_**loved **_**you**, Sherlock."

**Anger.**

"I loved you. So damn much."

**Remorse.**

"I never told you."

**Tears.**

"I sh-should have told you."

**Sobs.**

"I... I miss you so much, Sherlock," she swiped at her face, "John m-moved out. I... I sleep in your bed n-now... Sometimes I wake up and I th-think I hear someone walking around the flat so I get up s-so fast and call your name... B-But you're not there..."

**Heartache.**

"Mrs. H-Hudson keeps trying to sell your stuff," she laughed softly through the tears, "I k-keep telling her that I'm going to keep it all. She thinks I'm crazy."

**Shakey hands.**

"I dream about you a lot..." she swallowed, "But, I never finish telling you I love you. It's so horrible. I wake up right as I'm about to say it. It's like someone out there is making sure you never know."

**Disbelief.**

"It's s-so hard, Sherlock. There are some of us out there. We believe in you. Moriarty _was_ real."

**Silence.**

The wind **howled** and the only sound was that of a **distant** car alarm, somewhere off in the distance of the city.

Then she heard it.

Soft **footsteps**.

"Miss?"

She stepped down from **the ledge**. It was a security officer. She put on a **smile**. "Evening. Sorry. I was just a**dmiring** the view."

"... I'm going to have to ask you to go home, miss," he scowled, "**It's late**."

* * *

_ours a love I held tightly _

_feeling the rapture grow _

_like a flame burning brightly _

_but when she left gone was the glow of the light_

The flat was silent. Empty. **Quiet**.

Mrs. Hudson **stalked** in, bid her a goodnight and a **Happy Valentine's day** before scurrying back into her own flat. But, mid-step, the landlady **stopped**.

"Oh! A very nice **gentlemen** dropped this off for you, dear!"

She scowled.

A red, heart shaped **box **was held out to her.

"John?"

"No, no, no," Mrs. Hudson breathed, handing it to her, "No idea who it was."

She humphed, and then bid the landlady **goodnight**.

Valentine's day.** Disgusting**.

She only had** one man** in mind to be her Valentine. And he was **dead**.

She **locked** the door behind her and placed the box on the desk by the window, gently wiggling out of her heels. It was odd. John had given her **flowers**, a small bouquet which now rested on the kitchen table, earlier that day.

Suddenly, the box** binged**.

She froze.

**Memories.**

Her bare feet met the **cold** floor of the flat with agile speed as she raced to the box and **pried it** open. When her eyes met the item inside, she thought she was going to be **sick**.

It was a **pink phone**.

_The _pink phone.

SH, 11:36 PM

iMessage (**7**)

Slide to Reply

She **fell **to the floor, her chest twisting in a **painfu**l knot.

She fumbled to **unlock** the phone, the only **sound** in the flat being her muffled **sobs** and the clicking of the screen.

I'm sorry, Bri.

-SH

You and John take care.

-SH

I miss you, Bri.

-SH

You sleep in my bed now?

-SH

Don't be sad, please.

-SH

Merry Christmas.

-SH

I miss you so much, Bri. I'm so sorry.

-SH

**Briley Terrowin** wailed, sobbing **madly** into her hands. Her lungs **burned**, and she writhed on the wooden floor, her tears staining the old wooden. Her nails **dug **into the boards and she cursed, sobbing angrily. "Sh-**Sherlock**... N-No..."

The phone rang **again**.

Open the door for me, Bri.

-SH

Please?

-SH

And she** ran**.

**Faster** than her feet could take her.

She threw the front door to apartment **221B on Baker Street** open as fast as she could. Her tearful grin** faltered**, and a** choked **wail escaped her lips.

**Silence.**

The front step was was empty. **Unoccupied.**

Then she heard it.

Soft **footsteps**.

"Miss?"

Briley's focus** blurred**. Tears began to well in the corners of her **eyes** again.

That **voice**.

_His _voice.

"It has been a** long time**, Briley."

She** clutched** the doorway.

"I am **sorry**."

She shook her head. She couldn't turn around. She **couldn't**. She would **turn** and **blink** and he'd be **gone**, just like **all the other fucking times**.

"I had to make sure they thought I was **dead**, Bri," his voice was** soft**. Softer than she ever **imagined** it would be.

A warm hand **crept** up the bare of her **spine**, fingers dancing across goosebumped **flesh**.

"I am **home**."

He tugged her into an **embrace**, and suddenly she felt **okay**. Like it was all **safe **and she could smile again. Briley slipped into** his arms**, her fingers knotting in his.

"Sherlock, **I love y****—**"

_she wore blue velvet_

_but in my heart there'll always be _

_precious and warm a memory through the years _

_and I still can see blue velvet through my tears_

Briley Terrowin **awoke** with a start, she choked and blinked.

Her hand flew to the alarm clock beside the bed, **silencing the blaring radio**.

The sun **crept** through the blinds.

She sat up, her eyes wide in** terror**.

On the nightstand beside the bed, **a pink phone** sat.

SH 8:03 AM

iMessage (**2**)

Slide to Reply

* * *

**cheers! how about some r&r?**


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